"It does," he said—"you are right; I may have been tempted beyond my strength. He is a bad-tempered beast, and I am another. Why do you laugh——?"
He broke off, his voice changing as subtly as some musical instrument.
Stella hesitated a moment.
"I beg you will tell me—I shall not be offended."
She laughed, and clung with one hand to the lilac, looking down on him.
"I was thinking how fortunate it was that he could not whip you. It is not fair, as you are both so bad-tempered, that one only should get punished."
He did not laugh, as another man would have done; but there came into the dark eyes a flash of surprised amusement, such as might have shone in those of the giant Gulliver when some Liliputian struck him with a pin-sized stick; and his lips parted with a smile.
"It was a natural reflection," he said, after a pause. "Will you let me help you down?"
Stella shook her head. Somehow she felt safe up there above him, where but the dark eyes could reach her.
"Thank you, no; I am gathering some lilac. Do not trouble."